


Mama, I'm In Love With A Criminal

by combefemme



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Drabble, F/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-04 12:22:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/combefemme/pseuds/combefemme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of mostly unrelated Eponine/Montparnasse drabbles. Will be updated as the mood strikes me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is all [Leah's](http://www.jewishjoly.tumblr.com) fault and [Camille](http://www.montponine.tumblr.com) is no better.
> 
> I can be found [here](http://www.combefemme.tumblr.com)

The night Marius comes into the Musain with stars in his eyes and gushing about “the most perfect girl in the world” is the night Eponine gets rip-roaring drunk on the cheapest shots Corinthe has to offer.

It’s Montparnasse that finds her slumped over a bar stool alone. He takes her home, letting her lean against him on the walk and digging in her pocket for her keys. He helps her stagger toward her bedroom before letting her go and taking a step back. She sways a bit but stays upright.

"You gonna be okay?" he asks.

"Tha’s relative," she slurs.

He nods and turns to leave, but — in a stunning feat of agility considering her state — Eponine reaches out and grabs his wrist before he can take a step. She pulls him back, pressing her self against him, and planting a sloppy kiss on his mouth. She tastes like jaegermeister.

Not exactly how Montparnasse had imagined their first kiss going.

And he has imagined it. A lot. He’s wanted this for a very long time. Which is why it takes every ounce of willpower he has to pull away and say, “You’re drunk, Ponine.”

"C’mon, Parnasse," she whines, trying to pull him back in.

"I should go," he replies, disentangling himself from her arms. He turns away as she drops to sit on her bed.

"Jus’ one night," she pleads, pouting.

He chuckles, but there’s no real humour behind it. “I could never have just one night with you, Ponine,” he says and before he leaves adds, “Drink some water.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> talk montponine 2 me - [Camille](http://www.montponine.tumblr.com)

Eponine can name the exact moment she fell in love with Montparnasse.

She was fifteen years old and had just gotten into one of the worst fights with her father on record. Of course, at fifteen, their ‘fights’ weren’t so much fights as they were Eponine trying not to cower as her father flung abuse at her.

She’d run out of the house the first chance she’d gotten and ended up a few blocks away, tapping on Montparnasse’s bedroom window. He’d pulled the curtain back with half-lidded eyes and, upon seeing her, hadn’t even hesitated a second to undo the latch and open the window.

As soon as she was through he’d gently taken her face in his hands and turned it so he could get a good look at the bruise forming around her left eye.

"It’s not so bad," he’d said. She nodded but didn’t meet his eye because there were tears forming in hers and she’d be damned if she let anyone see her cry. "C’mon," he’d whispered, ushering her towards the bed.

"You foster parents won’t mind?" she’d asked.

He’d shrugged. “Who cares?”

She got under the blankets and he’d climbed in after her, sandwiching her between himself and the wall. He’d wrapped an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers in hers and whispered, “One day I’m gonna take you away from all this.”

And she’d realized it was the safest she’d ever felt.

XxXx

Montparnasse can name the exact moment he fell in love with Eponine.

He was eight years old and in the glory of his tree-climbing phase. There was this old oak at the park down the street from where he’d lived at the time that was his absolute favourite. It had lots of low branches and leaves to hide in.

He’d spent the whole afternoon up there, trying to carve his name into the trunk with the box-cutter he’d found in his foster-father’s tool shed and watching the people go by. He liked to watch people when he knew they couldn’t watch him back.

It was getting late, though, the sun hanging low and turning the whole sky orange so he’d figured he should probably get going. His foster parents weren’t all that bad, as far as foster parents go, but they were strict and he was supposed to be home before dark everyday. It was a rule he didn’t always listen to, but obeying at least meant he’d get dinner and he was starting to get hungry. So he’d started his descent.

He’d been about halfway back to the ground when he’d lost his footing and gone plummeting downward. It wasn’t far enough to cause any serious damage but he did scrape his knees up pretty bad on the bark.

Suddenly there was a girl standing next to him, looking down at him.

"Are you okay?" she’d asked. In response he’d just lifted his hands up to show her his bleeding knees. "Does it hurt?"

"Yeah," he’d nodded.

"Here," she’d replied and without any further warning had dropped to her knees and leant down to kiss each of his kneecaps. "Better?"

He’d just nodded again, mutely. It had been second nature to her — something she’d learned to do for her younger siblings — but it was the first time anyone had ever shown him any kind of caring.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinkin bout friends w benefits montponine and parnasse being secretly in love with her and I'm gonna cry - [Camille](http://www.montponine.tumblr.com)

Montparnasse opens his apartment door at 9:12 on a Friday night to find Eponine leaning against the jam, a bottle of cheap vodka in her hand.

"This a booty call?" he asks, a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth.

She rolls her eyes and shoves the bottle against his chest, holding it there until he takes it. “Just mix me a drink,” she says, slipping past him and heading towards his bedroom, stripping her t-shirt off as she does.

Montparnasse goes into the kitchen and opens his fridge, surveying its emptiness with a raised eyebrow. “With what?” he calls.

"What d’ya got?" she calls back from the bedroom.

"Uh," he starts. "A two-day-old, half-empty Coke from McDonalds."

"Good enough," she replies.

He shrugs and grabs the cup, dumping some vodka into it. It’s never been his drink of choice and he wonders vaguely if she does this on purpose so he’ll kiss her less. He wonders if she notices that it doesn’t work.

In his room he finds Eponine sitting on his bed in nothing but her underwear. She gets up as soon as he enters and takes the cup from him, downing it all in one go.

"Bad day?" he asks.

She tosses the empty cup to the side. “I didn’t come here for therapy,” she replies and grabs him by the collar of his shirt, hauling him down onto the bed.

XxXx

Afterwards, Montparnasse is lying at his bed staring at the ceiling while Eponine sits on his window sill smoking a cigarette into the night. She’d pulled his discarded t-shirt on and he can’t help but notice how good it looks on her.

"So, what happened today?" he asks.

"Hmm?" she hums around her cigarette. "What d’you mean?"

"I mean you never show up on my doorstep on good days," he replies.

She rolls her eyes and says, “I told you I don’t come here for therapy.”

He props himself up on an elbow and looks over at her. “Then why do you come here?”

Eponine scoffs. “I thought that would be obvious.”

"Ponine, you could go to a bar and get almost any guy you want," he answers. "So why do you come here?"

"Convenience," Eponine shrugs, then chuckles softly. "I know you’re clean. And that you won’t say no."

Montparnasse sighs and flops back down on the bed as Eponine flicks her butt out the window and hops off the sill. She pulls Montparnasse’s shirt off and starts rummaging around for her own clothes.

"Maybe I should start," he murmurs and she smirks as she fastens her bra.

"You won’t," she replies.

He turns and watches her dress for a moment before asking, “Do you ever wonder why that is?”

"Why what is?" she asks as she takes a seat on the side of his bed to pull her boots on.

"Why I don’t say no," he says.

She leans over him and answers, “Because you like sex just as much as I do.” She pecks him on the cheek and leaves the room.

He lays in bed, listening until he hears the front door slam behind her before he lets out a long sigh and runs a hand through his hair.

"Gotta start saying no," he mumbles to himself as he sits up and starts getting dressed.

He knows he never will, though.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talk Montponine to me - Anonymous

They meet at a bar.

It’s a total cliche that Eponine will cringe at later but it’s what happens.

It’s her sister, Azelma’s, birthday and they’re out celebrating with some girlfriends when they run out of drinks and Eponine gets sent to the bar for refills.

Up until this point, it had been a pretty good night.

So, naturally, that’s when someone grabs her ass.

"Hey, sexy," a voice slurs in her ear and Eponine turns to see a man easily twice her age grinning drunkenly at her.

"No," she says, shoving his arm away and taking a step down the bar.

"Aw, c’mon, babe," he persists, following her.

"I said no," she replies, with more force this time.

"Jus’ one little kiss," he goes on, leaning in close and breathing in her face. She gags. "I bet I can change yer mind."

"I don’t want you to change my mind," she replies, snatching his wrist when he makes another grab for her. "I want you to leave me alone."

"Wha’s yer problem?" he asks. "Gotta boyfrien’ or somethin’?"

Eponine gives an exasperated sigh. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that. I’ve got a boyfriend.”

"Well, where’s he tonigh’?" the drunk asks. "Lettin’ a fine young thing like you go out all by herself."

"I’m not by myself," she replies quickly. He’s got an arm wrapped around her waist now and Eponine is leaning backwards to try and get away from him.

"So where is he, then?" he asks.

"He’s, uh," Eponine looks around frantically and, noticing a guy about her age walking past, reaches out and grabs the front of his shirt. "He’s right here."

In one quick, fluid movement Eponine manages to get out of the drunk’s grasp and pull the new guy into a kiss. To his credit he goes with it. And he’s a damn fine kisser.

"Hey, sweetie," Eponine says when she pulls away.

"Darling," he replies.

"My new friend here was doubting your existence," she says, nodding her head towards the drunk who’s still watching her and hoping desperately that this guy will take pity on her and play along.

The guy — who Eponine notes is rather handsome — turns to the drunk with a charming smile and says, “Well, I can assure you I’m real.”

The drunk raises both his hands in a show of surrender and replies, “Sorry, brother. Didn’t mean to step on any toes.”

Eponine watches his back with a glare as he stumbles away. “Oh, sure, I tell him no over and over but it’s not until some other guy stakes his claim that he gets the picture,” she mumbles. “I hate men.”

"And that might be my cue," the guys says, taking a step back.

Eponine turns to him. “Sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean you. But… thanks for playing along.”

He shrugs with a grin. “Pretty girl in a bar kisses you, you don’t complain.”

"Still," she says. "Thanks."

"Anytime," he replies.

She laughs and he turns to leave. “I’m Eponine, by the way.”

He turns back and smiles again. “Montparnasse.”


End file.
